The Things We Do For Love
by Skalidra
Summary: He swore that he'd stay by Aizen, until he got his chance, no matter what. But sometimes the only options are bad, and worse, and there is no choice in what he's been asked to do. Canon Divergent, Gin-centric. Warnings for implied/referenced torture.


"I have a job for you," Aizen says smoothly, softly, and I know that something is about to go terribly wrong.

I pause in my steps, turning to look at him. He glances up from his book, a small smirk on his lips and his dark brown eyes, as usual, projecting nothing but cool amusement. It's either a perfect poker face, or he genuinely is amused at everything that goes on around him. I tend to believe it's a mixture of both, personally.

"Mmm?" I make a questioning noise, and he marks his place in the book before softly closing it, leaning forward to set it on the coffee table before his chair.

"You're aware we took Kurosaki and his friends into custody, yes?" Aizen asks, relaxing into the soft armchair. I take a step closer, leaning over the back of the couch opposite him, bracing my arms.

"A' course," I answer, and he gives a slow smile.

"I'd like you to play warden to the boy, Gin, if you don't mind."

"Sure, Aizen-taichou," I say, as I mull the request over in my head. Kurosaki may be powerful, but everyone is equal when you put them in reiatsu restraints, he doesn't need someone to watch him. Nothing with Aizen is ever what it seems, there must be something beyond the request, something else he wants done or tested. "Why, though? 'S na' like 'e's goin' ta be a problem, we've ga' restraints don' we?" Sometimes, _very _rarely, I can get away with questioning Aizen's motivations, but only on the unlikely situation that something doesn't make logical sense.

"Unfortunately, they were destroyed in Abarai and Ishida's rampage through Szayel's labs. It will take a few weeks to make another set powerful enough to contain him and his, variety, of powers. He may be rather," another smile, this one a touch softer than the last, "obstinate." That's not a good sign. The softer Aizen gets, the friendlier, the crueler he's about to be. I don't like where this is going.

"I c'n watch 'im 'til then, 'e 'asn't ga' th' power ta get pas' me. Na' yet."

Aizen stands, gathering his robes around him, and sweeps around the coffee table and couch to stand beside me. I straighten up as he leans one hip against the couch, smiling at me. We're the same height, but it still feels like he's towering over me. Whether that's his reiatsu, or just his thicker build, I don't know. "That's much appreciated, Gin. Shall I show you the way to his cell?"

"Nah," I say, crossing my arms inside their sleeves, "a' know where th' cells are, Aizen-taichou. Kurosaki's na' exactly hard ta' find either, ya know?" He only smiles, and I turn to backtrack, to leave and hunt down the location of the kid.

"Gin." Aizen's voice is quiet, calm, and when I look over my shoulder he meets my grinning mask with a tiny smile. "It occurs to me that a fight between you and Kurosaki could decimate a fair section of Las Noches, if it got out of hand. Kurosaki isn't exactly precise, after all." I stay silent, waiting for the other shoe to drop, for Aizen to give me some hint of what he expects me to do with the kid. "I suppose," Aizen says with a sigh, "you will need to take preventative measures to prevent him putting up a fight." So, what? Kidou, chains? It won't be hard to keep Kurosaki down, not with how inexperienced he is. "Do you still recall what I taught you about torture?"

I go very still for a moment. Oh, of _course_. Nothing with Aizen could be as simple as it looked, as I _wanted _it to be. Nothing with Aizen could be as kind as tying someone down.

My hands clench on my arms, hidden as they are by my sleeves, and I force my grin to remain right where it is. "Tha' I do. Bu' a' could jus' sever th' tendons 'n 'is limbs, that'd be easier." Kinder, too. Yes, I remember everything Aizen taught me. All the 'missing' division members I practiced my skills on. I didn't like it, but I swore to myself that I would do whatever was necessary to keep myself close to Aizen. But Kurosaki is just a child.

Aizen gives a small shake of his head, leaning back against the couch. "Kurosaki's hollow has a talent for instant regeneration, some of that carries over to the boy. He'll need to be repeatedly injured, drained of his strength, to make anything stick." He meets my eyes, his lips quirked upwards on one side. "That won't be a problem, will it, Gin?"

In a flash, I understand. This isn't about Kurosaki, not really. Sure, maybe torturing the boy has its advantages. Breaking his spirits, trauma, a symbol for any other shinigami that their 'hero' isn't so powerful after all, but that isn't the real point here. This is about _me_. I'd be a fool to think that Aizen trusts me, that he really trusts _anyone_, and I've watched him give the espada, and Tousen, test after test to make sure they'll react the way he thinks they will. It isn't about trust specifically, or even loyalty, it's just about knowing what they'll do. It's my turn, that's all.

I bow my head an inch or two, letting my gaze fall from Aizen's. "Ya' know me, capt'n," I say in an easy tone, "'m jus' lazy. 'Ow badly d' ya' wan' me ta' hurt 'im?"

Aizen's smile is small, brown eyes warm, and my blood runs cold for a moment. "Make him remember it, will you?" _Badly_.

* * *

><p>Kurosaki is unconscious, hanging by his arms in the center of one of the cells, and I take a single look at the tattered remains of his shinigami uniform, of the dried blood staining his skin, and send one of the minor arrancar standing guard over the corridor for the healing girl. His fight with Ulquiorra looks to have been a very unpleasant one, at least for him, and considering the bruising on his sides and the awkward angle of his left leg, I'd guess he came away with quite a few injuries that could probably be considered life threatening. He's still breathing, however, so at least the boy can take a hit. That might make this easier for him.<p>

However hard Aizen might want me to go on the boy, he can't object to me starting with him healed. It's remarkably hard to torture someone when you don't know how badly they were already injured, better not to need an emergency healing if I push him too far. I resist the urge to circle him as I wait, to study and size him up as I normally would an enemy. I don't need the reminder that Kurosaki is a child.

It's not terribly long before the girl arrives. She steps inside, giving a small, choked sound of fear and concern at the sight of Kurosaki, before looking at me with wide, pleading eyes. I nod permission, and her hands go to her hairpins. I watch her work, the soft golden light enveloping the kid, restoring his uniform and pulling the blood from his skin. It's still mildly impressive to watch, but I've seen it too often now to really be in awe. In the end she's just a girl, and I could put Shinso through her heart faster than she could blink. Abilities are only impressive if you have power to back them up, and she doesn't.

Her eyes are teary when she finishes, and she opens her mouth like she's about to speak, but I shake my head and raise a mocking finger to my lips. "Don' wake 'im, Hime-chan," I say in a whisper, nodding to her guard. He pulls her from the room, and I shut the door behind them. I move from the door to stand in front of the boy, flicking my eyes over him. Well, best to get this started and over with as quickly as possible.

I bring my hands together in a clap as close to his face as I can manage, and he jerks awake. His brown eyes, lighter than Aizen's, are wide and startled. It takes him a moment to put things together, to fully wake and get his feet under him, but then he glances around the cell he's in, and up at his bound hands.

"What the hell's going on?" he snarls at me, pulling hard on the chains hooking him to the ceiling. His reiatsu flares, and in the span of an instant I draw Shinso and press it tightly against the kid's throat, grabbing the hair at the back of his neck with my free hand to hold him in place. He jerks, probably unable to follow my speed, and I look down at him. His scowling glare meets my grin, and I give a sharp tug at his hair.

"Easy, kid. Pull agains' th' chains again, a'll pu' Shinso 'ere through each a' yer wrists. A' don' need y'r hands workin'."

He breathes shallowly, hands clenching above his head. "What do you want?" he asks, and I release him.

"Nothin'," I say cheerfully, pulling Shinso away from his throat. I step back, murmuring the incantation for a kidou under my breath as I press my hand to the wall. It's just something simple, to block the sound and reiatsu from leaving this room. For practical purposes, since people's reiatsu tends to lash out when they get hurt, but also to hide some of what I'm doing from Aizen. Unless he's here in the room with us, this is a little bit of protection. In case I slip up. White power flashes around the walls, vanishing just as quickly, and I turn back to the kid. "See, we ha' a restraint f'r ya, f'r when we caught ya, bu' then y'r pals ha' ta' go an' wreck Szayel-chan's lab, so now we gotta make a new one. A' got th' job a' keepin' ya busy 'til they're done. Don' wan' ya runnin' through Las Noches, after all."

He seems to catch on to some inkling of what I'm about to do, swallowing thickly as his eyes fall to the short sword in my hand. "Keeping me busy?" he asks, a hint of nervousness in his tone.

"Tha's righ'." I step towards him and he glances past me, towards the door. "Don', kid," I warn him. "Ya won' make it." I pull Shinso up, pressing the tip to the hollow of Kurosaki's throat. I watch his adam's apple bob as he swallows again, and take a moment to steel myself against this. This won't be fun, Kurosaki hasn't done _anything _to deserve it, but I don't have a choice. If I pull away without good reason, I have no doubt Aizen will deliver the same fate he plans for this boy on me, before he kills me. I can be self-sacrificing, at least I used to be able to be, but I'm certainly not suicidal.

"You couldn't just watch me?" he says in a worried voice, and I meet his eyes.

"Well, personally a' was gonna sever th' tendons 'n yer limbs," I answer, as though about the weather, "bu' Aizen-taichou seemed ta' think tha' wouldn' stop ya f'r long, given y'r hollow's regeneration abilities. He thought it migh' take a more consisten' source a' damage ta' keep ya down."

If he didn't know before, he knows now, and the color leaves his face. I get another sharp pang of guilt as he gasps out, "You don't have to do this."

I give him a slightly wider grin than my usual, letting Shinso draw a thin red line down the center of his chest, to the close of his uniform. The kid winces, but doesn't make a noise. "Actually, a' really do. Aizen's orders, kid. Ya c'n relax though, a've ga' some practice a' this. Ya won' die, promise."

"That's supposed to reassure me?" he asks, as I raise Shinso to slice through the arms of his uniform. It's too baggy for me to work through, and I need to know how much he bleeds. I won't be able to see that if it all soaks into the black cloth.

"Na' dyin'? Tha' usually reassures people." The top of his uniform falls, hanging from his waist, and I let Shinso rest at my side. This will be easier if I don't look at his face, or his eyes. He's muscular, for how young he is, and it's not that difficult to pretend he's just another shinigami strung up for Aizen's amusement. Just one more test, one more job. I skim my gaze over his sides, watching his chest rise with each breath. This is so much different than killing for Aizen, so much harder, and if I had the option to avoid it, I would.

"Fuck, I won't fight, I promise, just don't do this."

I can't help looking up, meeting his eyes. His eyes are wide, afraid, and for a moment my grin flickers. He's just a _boy_. Not even the kid captain, Hitsugaya, looks this young. Kurosaki might be able to take a hit, but he won't handle this well. He doesn't have the experience, and I'm too damn good at it. This is one of the cruelest things Aizen has ever made me do.

I drag my grin back up, tapping the flat of Shinso against my thigh, and tilt my head a little to one side. "A' told ya, kid. Aizen's orders. Aizen-taichou said this was th' way ta' do it, and he's na' th' kinda person ya c'n disobey 'n get away with i'. A' figured Grimm's missin' arm woulda told ya tha'."

Kurosaki blinks, stares at me for a few moments, and then his eyes close. He takes in a deep breath, letting it out again very slowly, and I watch him in curiosity. He opens his eyes, meeting my gaze with a grimace. "And I guess you like your arms."

"Yeah, a' do," I say with a small laugh. "There's na' escape 'ere, kid, a'll catch ya before ya reach th' door. Ya haven' ga' any other choice."

"No choice, huh?" he asks, and there's something knowing in his eyes.

"No choice," I echo. He watches me for a moment, and then gives me a single nod, something I'd almost call acceptance in his eyes.

"Then I guess I shouldn't get blamed no matter how I react, right?" I blink, almost startled, and he gives a tiny, tight, smile. He shifts, gathering his weight under him, and swallows. "Just do it already?"

Despite the horrendous sin I'm about to commit, the torture of a boy little more than a child, it's soothing to know that at least he understands. He might not know why I'm here, what I'm doing, what happened, but he knows that I don't have any choice about what's going to happen. He knows that this isn't what I would do if I had the opportunity to decide. He doesn't blame me for it, and at the same time, he's asking me not to blame him for however he might react under the pain.

Maybe I've been around Aizen too long, maybe I'm reading in extra meanings where there are none, but I'm going to cling to my fantasy. To make myself feel better, for just that bit of comfort about this terrible deed.

I nod in response to his request, raising Shinso to dig into his side, above his ribs, and he grits his teeth. He shudders, his reiatsu burning in the air around us, but doesn't make a sound. I know that will last for a time, until he doesn't have the strength to force the pain back down, but I also know that the resistance is as much involuntary as his eventual surrender will be.

That's the last reason I put the kidou up. The cells around us are full. Abarai, the young Kuchiki, everyone who came to Las Noches with the boy in front of me. When he screams, and, eventually, when he breaks, it will be much kinder if they can't hear, and he _will _break. I'm far too good at this, and Aizen, even if he isn't watching, will know if I go easy on him. Aizen taught me how, he _knows _how much skill I have at this particular art, and he'll know if I give it anything less than my best.

Kurosaki will break within the week, and if he's very, _very _lucky, Aizen might consider that enough.


End file.
